I Won't Ask For More
by Emerald Embers
Summary: Castiel can't help being intoxicating. Edward/Castiel, some Carlisle/Castiel.


Castiel knew the instant he saw the boy that he wasn't human. Not a demon either - there was a soul in place, but it wasn't burnt or burning; no yellow, no red, no white or black.

He didn't tell the Winchesters. This close to the end of days their tolerance for anything that posed a threat - be it a vampire that chose not to feed or a werewolf who successfully locked themselves away from others at night - was wearing thin.

Both of them clearly thought of the other as younger; Edward had walked on Earth for centuries, while Castiel had watched for aeons longer, and neither could agree as to whether age only counted if it had been lived through flesh.

Comfort came from strange places these days, as did support; Edward himself did not wield much power, but the Cullens as a whole did - and through their latest member, Bella, they also wielded a kinship with shapeshifters. As supernatural creatures went, they were relatively weak - but any creature with a superhuman strength, however it was wielded, was a valuable ally.

The last thing Castiel intended was to endanger that alliance, and so he kept in contact with them as much as he could without arousing the suspicion of either Sam or Dean; and at first it was easy, a quick exchange of pleasantries and warnings every few evenings.

Castiel had given little thought to how the Cullens themselves might view his visits as something more.

It was Carlisle who alerted him, taking Castiel aside during Alice's birthday party and leaning in close, tracing Castiel's neck with his nose and inhaling deeply before shuddering. "I should warn you," Carlisle said quietly as he pulled back, eyes glazing over red for a moment before easing back into their usual calm amber, "Your scent is mesmerising. Your nature is altering your vessel's blood." And a faint smile, self-mocking. "Forgive the blasphemy, but I believe any Christian secretly lusts after an angel of their own."

Castiel blinked. "I will keep that in mind."

.

And he did; Castiel paid attention to his own observations, knew Jasper to be the Cullen least in control of his own hunger, Emmett to be the most impulsive. Alice seemed to keep her sisters calm, so there was little danger there.

He'd not given more than a moment's thought to Edward.

Typical, then, that within a month he found himself on the floor of Edward's room, the vampire's teeth buried in his neck, and rather than fighting off Edward's advances he couldn't entirely shake an overwhelming sense of stunned surprise - and a strange, faint pleasure.

Vampire bites were supposed to be agonising, but he had endured far worse - either that, or his own nature counteracted the venom.

"I am truly damned," Edward said, pulling back from Castiel's neck and wiping his lips in disgust before licking the back of his hand clean.

"You are not," Castiel replied. "Your soul is not tainted."

"You cannot know that."

"I'm an angel," Castiel reminded, raising his own hand to the healing wound on his neck, wondering at the curious dizzy sensation of having been drained; a human would need a hospital visit, but Edward had not taken enough to kill a mortal, let alone an angel. "I see more than your eyes will allow." He took a long breath, shivered at first with cold, and then with something more; something less familiar. "Edward, read my mind."

The vampire flushed hot for a moment, the heat borrowed from Castiel's own veins. "No."

"I am not lying."

"That's a sin," Edward said. "I'm married. And male -"

"Revelation is nearing," Castiel said, borrowing courage from his perceived image of Dean and running his hand down Edward's chest. There were elements of his illness that hadn't entirely faded with immortality - his slimness a little too gaunt, the muscles of his stomach born of illness - but there was still a beauty to him, same as there was beauty in Dean and Sam's strength regardless of their scars. "And those rules were not written by Him."

Edward hesitated, and Castiel took it for fear; swallowed his own back to lean up and press his lips to the vampire's. "I can't," he said. "Bella -"

"Bella made you convert her so she could feel alive," Castiel replied. "I won't ask for that much."

"What will you ask for?" Edward said, still close enough for Castiel to feel every breath, smell the lingering tang of copper.

Castiel let the hand on Edward's stomach slide lower yet. "Less."

.

For all Castiel's affection towards the Winchesters, nothing could change the fact they were human; would remain human regardless of bites or cuts or scratches or infections until the day they died for good or fulfilled their destinies as vessels. And, being humans, their strength was limited.

With Edward, Castiel _felt_. More than the warmth of a comforting hand or the support of an arm carrying his weight; he felt grip and control, felt Edward's need to possess, the one unshakeable trait of vampirism. Carlisle Cullen had taught his makeshift family to channel that particular urge without causing harm to others but under their skin it would always beg to be free, and Castiel could take that; _needed_ Edward to be vicious to feel arousal building in his own body, and when Edward turned him over and pushed into him, hand tight around Castiel's erection, it was only luck that kept him from crying out.

Luck did not hold out for long, though, and Castiel could not help but be thankful for Edward's hand clamping down across his mouth as Edward's teeth closed on the skin at the back of his neck; his yell was muffled on account, even if his resultant lashing out drew a hiss of more pain than arousal from the vampire.

.

Esme woke them a scarce few hours later with a serene smile for Castiel and a roll of her eyes at Edward. "Bella will be home soon. You should think about cleaning up."

Edward's shame was clear enough but Castiel had little time for more human concerns, sat up with a wince. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"You're more than welcome," Esme replied, still smiling as she offered her hand. Castiel took it without hesitation, remembered his own confusion when Sam had made a similar offer so many months before. It felt a lifetime away; had been, after a fashion. "I personally appreciate the entertainment."

"Esme," Edward muttered, the tone not far off a teenager about to whine at his parents for being embarrassing, and Castiel looked between the two of them before shrugging and leaving their presence, redressing with a thought.

Underneath his clothing, the bruises marking his hips and his thighs were a warm, aching reminder of what he had done, but he would not waste his strength on healing them; better to save his powers for when they were needed. Besides, he spent little time away from the Winchesters as it was - and on this occasion, until he had healed?

Well, he could allow himself a day or two of privacy.

.

The End


End file.
